


She Called It

by blushing_hunters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Deastiel, Demon!Dean, Destiel - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Season 9, canon!verse, fluff?, moc!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 06:03:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4380041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blushing_hunters/pseuds/blushing_hunters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The mark has taken Dean to his limit, but Cas isn't going to let him go that easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Called It

In a last effort, Dean presses Cas to the bunker's hallway wall with the first blade to his neck. Cas' face was calm, through his eyes were frantic, but Dean knew he could see them reflected on his black ones. 

They stared at each other, chests heaving and their faces only a few inches apart, waiting, though neither knew for what exactly. 

They had been fighting for a good while before this. Dean (the Mark) had done exactly what Cain said he would. Crowley was gone, leaving hell in a panic for about a day before they accepted Dean as the new leader. Not that he had run for election or anything like that. But for the mere fact that he was, to as close a thing, to Cain. 

Now it was Cas' turn, just like Cain had warned, and this was where it had ended up for now. The two halves of a profound bond, looking into each others eyes like they had done so many times before. And this time was different, in more ways than one.

Cas was the first to break. 

"Dean," he swallowed the lump in his throat "please."

Before he could finish, Dean was grinning at his words, mocking. Cas panicked at the sight.

"Dean, no, please listen to me. Think about what you're doing; what you're about to do."

The first blade grazed Cas' neck, leaving a horrible sting in it's wake, making him grunt in pain.

"Oh Cas," the nickname had a different tone to it. It sent a shiver down Cas' spine. "you poor thing." He said it in almost a snarl.

Cas could feel a drop of blood oozing from the cut, his accelerated puls making it inevitable. He decided it was time to drop the stoic face when Dean went for a matching injury.

He pushed back farther against the wall. "Dean! Dean, listen to me!" His voice got quieter. "You don't have to do this. You can fight this."

Dean cackled at that. 

"Cut the crap! I'm sick of hearing this bullshit! Don't you think I tried!" Cas looked away. He knew what was coming. "Well I'm tired of trying! Because it's exactly and only that! Trying!" Dean's voice cracked in the last word. Cas looked him in the eyes, still black, but somehow sadder.

"It's the story of my life and this mark has finally given me the clarity I needed to stop and do something for myself... and this" Dean's other hand came up to rub his thumb againts the trail the blood drop had left, studying it. "This, I've always been good at."

When he looked back up, Cas was staring at him. They looked at eachother then. Both just breathing. Dean distracted himself by thinking how much those breaths the angel was taking were because he needed to. 

Neither knowing how much time had passed, but however long, it had done something. No matter what Dean thought or said, he wasn't gone. Not really.

Cas felt the blade leave his neck slightly. Only an inch, but it was an improvement.

He took this for courage to speak, reapeating what he believed to be true. "You can fight this, just like always. There hasn't been a battle you haven't won." Cas was hopeful now, seeing how Dean's face slowly melted away any rough lines, to reveal the sadness he knew would be there.

Dean's hands were still on his neck, where the blood was now drying.

"Against good, evil, and the devil himself you've come out alive. With Sam and even me at your side, you beat them all. And this won't be any different."

Dean's face was a mix of emotions now. He wanted to be mad. Mad at Cas, mad at himself, mad at the world. But he couldn't find the energy to be. Eyes still black, he remained stock still. Pressed againts Cas and looking into his eyes like they would somehow reveal the answer to his hopelessness.

Castiel continued. "And if not for yourself... then do it for me. Because even if you don't hurt any of the ones you love" That word noticeably striking a cord. "I'm the one that's gonna live long enough to bury you... And I don't think I would have the will to live after that." 

The look on Cas' face was so earnest, Dean couldn't look him in the eyes. 

"You don't mean that." Dean said. Trying to convince himself. 

The look Cas gave him was even more powerful than the last. He looked outraged. Dean pushed him back harder, the angel wasn't going to stay pinned for much longer.

"Dean Winchester!" Castiel weithed in his place. Dean himself didn't know why he let him continue. "I have gone to Hell and back! Literally! Just to save you!" Dean was putting all of his weight on Cas now. 

"Consequences be dammed! I will get you freed of the Mark!"

Castiel finished, giving Dean the answer he had been scouring for in the angel's eyes.

He bet his luck (on trust alone) and reached up slowly to move Dean's hand, along with the blade, away from his neck.

When the arm with the mark landed hanging next to Dean again at its natural position, the blade slipped through his fingers and fell to the floor with a loud thud that echoed through the empty bunker. 

As the echo faded, so did the black in Dean's eyes, leaving a wet green in it's place. 

"Cas?" he looked almost dazed.

Cas' hand, that was still holding on to Dean's wrist, slipped lower, landing palm to palm with his. Intertwining their fingers where his hand was still warm from holding the blade. He smiled slightly at Dean "I'm here." he whispered. 

In a rush of emotions (relief, grief, regret, all three) Dean smiled back, a toothy smile, and plopped his head on the wall next to Cas', hugging him then. 

They stayed like that for a while, loosing track of time again. Cas slowly radiating his dwindling grace at Dean.

Down the hallway, Sam comes running, expecting to see Dean standing over a very dead Cas. But what he finds is his two best friends, hugging like they haven't seen each other in decades. 

He slips away quietly, hoping that they hadn't heard his footsteps.

As he tucks his gun back into his jeans by the hollow of his back, he remebers a conversation from a while ago. 

Now he owes Charlie twenty bucks. She called it. 

What was it again? Deastiel?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting a fic. It's short and unbetad so if you find any mistakes please send me a message to my Tumblr @blushing_hunters .


End file.
